Between Us : Chapter 22: A Lamb into the Tiger’s Den

The small inn was built near the bus station, the only one within a hundred meter radius. The owner took advantage of the heavy foot traffic to charge high prices, but the facilities were mediocre at best. There was not even a heater in the room.

Xu Jue went to shower first, staying under the water for a good twenty minutes before coming out. He sat on the edge of the bed bare-chested, grabbed the T-shirt at the foot of the bed, and pulled it on. “Go wash up quick, while there’s still hot water left.”

The time in the top right corner of his phone showed it was already past midnight. Chen Qian pressed the screen off and said, “This isn’t home.”

The bathroom was separated from the room by nothing more than a cloth curtain. Chen Qian lifted the curtain and went in, immediately enveloped by the lingering warm mist that had not yet dispersed. Stripping off his clothes, he did not shiver, and only then did he understand that Xu Jue had showered first to warm up the bathroom for him.

Separated by a single curtain, the sound of water splashing against the tiled floor followed one after another. Also exposed to Xu Jue’s eyes were a pair of fair feet visible through the gap at the bottom of the curtain, looking somewhat mismatched stuffed into the inn’s oversized and ugly slippers.

He averted his gaze, towel-dried his hair until it was half damp, then moved to the center of the bed to spread out the quilt.

The bed was a single, pushed against the wall, only slightly wider than a dormitory bed. Xu Jue pushed the only pillow to the side against the wall, laid one of his own sweatshirts on top to cover the strange smell the pillow could never quite be washed clean of, then folded his school uniform jacket into a square and squeezed it in next to the pillow.

He burrowed under the covers, moved to the side against the wall, and sat up against the headboard. Unlocking his phone, he scrolled through the messages that had piled up all evening. The chat box at the very top was marked with a red circle and 99 plus unread messages. He had thought the class group chat might have a new assignment, but it turned out Qiu Yuanfei, that punk, had taken it upon himself to create a three-person group chat named “Juezi’s Love Quest, One Percent Progress.”

Qiu Yuanfei and Wei Xiaoduo could not keep their mouths shut, chatting nonstop from a little past eight in the evening until just now. They bickered verbally at school all day, yet online they were surprisingly harmonious and in sync. Hundreds of messages revolved around a single central point: strategizing for Xu Jue’s long and arduous journey to win someone’s heart. However, every plan had been shot down one by one, because none of them knew what type of girl the target of the conquest was.

The lengthy chat history was dizzying to look at, more headache-inducing than an English reading comprehension passage. Xu Jue only replied with one sentence: “Who came up with this group name? Are you indirectly cursing me to die without descendants?”

When he sent it, he thought for a moment and felt there was nothing inappropriate about it.

But Qiu Yuanfei had already swiftly changed “Juezi” to “Xu Jue” and said, “Jue, only surfacing now? Even if you’re buried in studying, you need to balance work and rest. You’ve been grinding for four or five hours straight. Does that do justice to us strategic partners who have racked our brains for you?”

Wei Xiaoduo also came online: “What do you know? Xu Jue disappeared right after school let out. He definitely went to pick up his jiejie from work.”

To fully understand the target before deploying a plan, Qiu Yuanfei took the opportunity to ask, “Bro, what does your jiejie do for a living?”

Xu Jue’s finger hovered above the screen. If he said “little bee,” they would not understand. If he said “hostess,” he himself could not get past that mental hurdle. Thinking that “liquor sales” might be an acceptable alternative phrasing, he said, “She’s in sales.”

Qiu Yuanfei’s family was in distribution, so he knew his stuff: “Is it channel sales or consultative sales?”

Xu Jue had just finished checking Baidu and gave a vague answer: “Business sales.”

Qiu Yuanfei: “Business sales can’t escape the drinking culture. People are treacherous. Be careful your jiejie doesn’t walk into a tiger’s den.”

Xu Jue’s eyelid twitched. He thought of that black gauze shirt of Chen Qian’s that he had despised so much, with two pearly white beads dangling against his chest that made anyone who saw them want to take a bite. He also thought of that choker with its bow tie loosened, a masterpiece left by some unknown meddler’s hand.

But as long as Chen Qian did not quit this job, Xu Jue could only talk tough: “My jiejie is the tiger himself. He’s the one doing the eating. Besides, he keeps himself clean. Don’t bring it up.”

Wei Xiaoduo transformed into a grammar police officer: “Be precise. It’s ‘she,’ not ‘he.’ And you rank top three in Chinese in our grade?”

Xu Jue was still dazed by the sentence he had just typed. Unconsciously, he had followed those two in calling Chen Qian “jiejie,” and after saying it, it felt surprisingly satisfying. He wanted even more to say it to Chen Qian’s face.

The water in the bathroom stopped. Xu Jue turned off his phone and placed it on the nightstand. He noticed the other phone on the nightstand surface was lit up, showing a message with nothing but a period. Someone not even worthy of a proper contact name was probably no one important, but someone harassing people with messages at this hour was suspicious.

Xu Jue shouted toward the bathroom: “J… Chen Qian, you have a call!”

Chen Qian’s voice came through the cloth curtain: “Is it 188?”

Xu Jue leaned over to look: “Yeah.”

Chen Qian said flatly: “Hang up. Help me block it.”

Judging by this attitude, this 188 was definitely that Jiang guy’s number. Xu Jue’s own number started with 189, and he suddenly felt he had a slight edge in this department. He wondered if it was the same in other areas. He had to win Chen Qian’s approval in every aspect.

Blocking required unlocking the phone first. Xu Jue seized this as a reason, held the phone with the call ended, and walked up to the cloth curtain, saying, “Touch the fingerprint lock.”

The cloth curtain fluttered. Chen Qian was blow-drying his hair inside. As soon as Xu Jue spoke, his voice was swallowed by the whirring noise of the hair dryer.

If he was blow-drying his hair, he should be dressed by now. Reassured, Xu Jue lifted the curtain: “Chen—”

A gust of hot air hit his face. Xu Jue froze on the spot. He did not remember to avert his eyes or step back. He only instinctively sniffed, afraid he was having another nosebleed.

That night, Chen Qian had fallen asleep while Xu Jue changed his clothes for him. Under the dim light, he had devoured Chen Qian’s body with his eyes. But the light was too weak, and it had not been enough.

Now that body was displayed directly before him under bright light, wearing nothing but the black thong he himself had crumpled. Beyond that, the pink and the white, the flat and the pert, he could see it all clearly. Yet he had lost the courage he had that night, because he was afraid Chen Qian would be disgusted by him.

The abruptly stopped hair dryer plunged the surroundings into dead silence. Xu Jue regained a shred of reason, dropped the curtain, and stepped back, hoarsely demanding, “Why aren’t you wearing clothes!”

Chen Qian was quite calm, his tone even carrying a hint of amusement: “My body is still wet. How am I supposed to dress? Didn’t you take the towel to dry your hair?”

Xu Jue felt a bit like a thief crying “stop thief.” He refused to admit he was in the wrong and shifted the blame onto the cheap inn: “This lousy place is really stingy. Said it’s a single room and they really give you everything in single portions. If I asked them to send up two servings of late-night snacks, would they charge me for a single portion too?”

“You think this is a hotel? They even do room service.” Chen Qian unwrapped a disposable toothbrush. With no second cup for rinsing, he took the one Xu Jue had used. “The fact that they gave us an extra pair of slippers is humanitarian enough.”

He got no response for a long while. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the cloth curtain move slightly. Chen Qian turned his face. It was Xu Jue reaching in one hand, the lock screen lit up: “Didn’t you want me to block that 188? Unlock it.”

Chen Qian had foam in his mouth and said two words briefly: “Birthday.”

Xu Jue withdrew his hand and went back to the bed, successfully unlocking the screen. He felt it was necessary to change the group name to “Ten Percent Progress.”

Just as he was about to block that Jiang guy, a text suddenly popped up at the top. The period said: “Good boy, I’m waiting for you downstairs.”

The term of endearment was jarring. Xu Jue clenched the phone, deleted the text, blocked the number, and thought it over. He decided the idea of ten percent progress was too aggressive. At the very least, he had to get Chen Qian to accept him calling him something special too.

The screen was about to go dark. Xu Jue hurriedly opened the contacts list. He had not intended to snoop through other names, only planning to properly type his own number into the search bar.

But there was no need to search at all. His name sat at the top like it was second only to one and above all others, with a lowercase letter “a” added in front.

A full name with an “a” attached completely changed the nature of it. It meant he was Chen Qian’s top contact. With a little more effort, he should be able to become the other half’s first choice.

Xu Jue felt like he was floating. He had ridden a hot air balloon in Turkey as a child, and even that had not made him float this high.

He flopped onto the bed. At nearly one meter eighty-nine, he squirmed and rolled around in the bedding, tormenting the bed frame until it creaked and groaned. The guest in the next room banged on the wall in fury: “Can you people next door doing your business keep it down?”

Xu Jue lay flat, but his mood could not settle down quickly.

He set down Chen Qian’s phone, picked up his own, and wanted to give Chen Qian an “a” too. When he opened his contacts, he realized Chen Qian was already at the top even without an “a,” because no one else’s name started with A or B.

Even his own father, the most qualified person to hold the top spot, had been regretfully eliminated because Xu Jue had once saved him as “Old Man.”

Everything was just too damn coincidental.

When Chen Qian came out dressed, he saw Xu Jue lying flat staring at the ceiling in a daze. He picked up his phone to check, confirmed the block was in place, and put it back down: “You sleeping on the inside?”

Xu Jue shifted over, freeing up the spot against the wall: “I’ll sleep on the outside. I drank quite a bit of water earlier. I’m afraid I’ll need to get up in the middle of the night.”

Chen Qian spoke like he was lecturing a child: “Don’t drink too much water at night. Your eyes will be puffy the next morning.”

Xu Jue bit back on the surface but was actually digging for common ground: “I see you finished your bottle too.”

“I did that because…” Chen Qian was usually such a sharp talker, but now he was at a loss for words.

The beer he had downed tonight seemed to surge up his esophagus, sour bubbles rising in his throat. Chen Qian swallowed hard. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a tiny sip left in the mineral water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and drank it, saying, “Because I ate too many lotus seed paste pastries. I was thirsty.”

He kicked off his slippers. There was a railing at the foot of the bed, so he could only get in from Xu Jue’s side. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, one leg was about to swing over when the bed frame suddenly lurched violently. Before a cry of alarm could even break from his throat, Chen Qian’s body was plummeting straight down, his backside landing hard on Xu Jue’s thigh.

The neighbor exploded in rage, grabbing something heavy and slamming it against the wall: “Are you fucking done yet!”

Xu Jue had not expected standing up suddenly would cause this. Through the not-too-thick quilt, he could feel nothing but softness.

And as always, certain things would grow in inverse proportion, surging wildly.

Xu Jue had competed in city-wide physics competitions and never solved a problem this difficult. He went rigid, staring at Chen Qian, not daring to let his eyes drift toward the surface of the quilt: “Should I… lie back down?”